Alchemy's Bane
by Azul Eclipse
Summary: Hundreds of years before the events of Golden Sun, four brave Adepts undertake an epic quest to seal the power of Alchemy. Their actions become legend, and the legend becomes part of the lore of Weyard... please R+R!
1. After the Storm

**Disclaimer: I own something! Yay! All characters in this fic are Original Characters, and they all belong to me.  However, all concepts such as Alchemy, Psynergy, etc. are Golden Sun material that belongs to Nintendo and/or Camelot.  Everyone got it? Good!!**

**Author's Note: This little idea has been bouncing around for a bit, so we'll see how it plays out.  This takes place hundreds of years before Golden Sun.**

         Imil looked around the grassy plain and smiled in grim satisfaction.  Prince Herod lay dead at his feet, his army scattered on the plain behind him.  The smile quickly faded from Imil's face and he ran a hand through his ruffled blue hair, realizing just how close they had come to a dictator.  The Stone of Sages was no more than fifty feet behind him, and had Herod even touched the sacred relic, all of Alchemy's power would have been his.  He would have taken over all of Weyard, even without his rather mundane army.

         Imil was beginning to be disillusioned with Alchemy.  Granted, it had done wondrous things for the race of men, but horrible things as well.  Alchemy was the greatest power in the world; as such, many wanted to wield it exclusively.  Prince Herod was simply the latest in a long line of would-be dictators who sought the power of Alchemy as their own.  His defeat had cost thousands of lives, both in his army and of the Adepts who protected the Stone.  Imil and his friend, Lalivera, had been the last two standing defenders in Vale, and they had only just managed to defeat Herod's last battalion.

         Imil turned his powerfully built frame to face his smaller companion.  Lalivera had the brown hair and brown eyes of a Venus Adept, and her skill at healing was nearly unmatched.  Her light frame allowed her great speed, enabling her to heal quickly and efficiently.  She was a large reason why the band of thirty Adepts, sworn protectors of Alchemy's power, had managed to defeat the thousands of hired men Herod had attacked Vale with.  Herod had left the town itself mainly intact; the Adepts had lured his army into the plain, where they attacked quickly and efficiently.  The initial ambush had eliminated most of Herod's army, but the rest had proven to be a stiff test.

         "It is over," Lalivera spoke.

         "Indeed," Imil returned.  "But it was closer than it should have been."

         "You are correct.  We've lost many brave Adepts today."

         "This trend will only keep repeating itself.  We may have won this battle, but our numbers grow thin, and another will arise."

         "There is little else we can do.  We cannot move the Stone of Sages," Lalivera pointed out, glancing back at the sacred artifact.

         Imil surveyed the battlefield before speaking.  "Alchemy brings many great things, but it has such potential for destruction.  If someone claims it, the world would be theirs to command."

         "What are you suggesting?" Lalivera said, glancing at her elder companion.

         Imil gazed out across the plain as he spoke.  "Perhaps the Golden Age is ending."

         Lalivera joined Imil at his side.  A chill wind blew through her hair as Imil turned to face her.

         "We should continue this inside.  After you," he gestured.

         The two protectors of Alchemy strode through the ruined battlefield.

         *               *               *               *               *               *

         Lalivera looked up as Imil sat heavily across the table.  The inn at Vale was occupied by the remnants of the protectors, and she and Imil were in their room upstairs.

         "How many are left?" she asked.

         Imil sighed and unclasped his sword.  "Eleven.  Seireh and Lesir died during the night."

         Lalivera cursed silently under her breath.  They had barely managed to fend off Herod's army with thirty.  If another were to come now… disaster could befall them all.

         "What do you suggest?"

         "The Golden Age cannot last," Imil stated bluntly.  "It will end, either through dictator's conquest or Alchemy's destruction.  We no longer have the strength to protect the Stone of Sages."

         "We are faced with two evils, neither faring the better."

         "We must choose the lesser of the two.  If Alchemy were to fall, the world would still survive.  The same cannot be said of a dictator.  With Alchemy at his command, his every wish and desire would be forced upon Weyard."

         Lalivera looked in surprise at the Mercury Adept.  "You're suggesting we destroy Alchemy?  After spending all these years protecting it?"

         Imil shook his head.  "Not destroy.  That would also doom the world, merely through a slow decline instead of a sudden end.  But it must be controlled.  Shackled.  Perhaps even sealed away."

         Lalivera tapped her fingers on the tabletop.  "Interesting idea.  But how could we possibly contain Alchemy's power? Fueled as it is by the four lighthouses, the Stone of Sages cannot be destroyed."

         Imil stood up and paced to the opposite end of the room.  "The four lighthouses are the key.  They are the key to Alchemy's power.  If we could darken the lighthouses, Alchemy's power would fail."

         "Darkening the lighthouses would allow the Stone of Sages to be destroyed.  But I thought you wanted to contain Alchemy, not remove it."

         Imil stopped suddenly and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  "The power of the lighthouses must be absorbed.  Absorbed so that they could be rekindled, if necessary.  But how?" he continued pacing.

         Lalivera sat silent, turning over an idea in her mind.  It was frightening to consider a world without Alchemy.  But Imil seemed to be right: the choice was between that and dictatorship.  And if the power could be contained, harnessed, it could be unleashed again when the time was correct.  Yes, that was the proper course of action.  But how to obtain it?

         Imil's voice interrupted her thoughts.  "If the power of the lighthouses were absorbed, the Stone of Sages could still be destroyed, correct?"

         Lalivera thought for a moment, then nodded.  "Yes, I believe so."

         "Then we could seal the power of the lighthouses away.  That would be much easier than trying to seal the full power of Alchemy."

         Lalivera snapped her fingers suddenly.  The noise echoed briefly in the empty room as Imil turned to face her.

         "I think I know how we can absorb the lighthouses' power," she said musingly.  "The problem is containing the power of a single element in a safe place.  A person could cast a simple absorption spell, but the power would overwhelm their system, and they would perish."

         "That's correct.  Even someone of the correct elemental alignment would find the power too much to handle."

         "So if we center an absorption spell on an item, all the power of that element would be absorbed into that item."

         Imil's eyes flashed in recognition.  "And whoever held the item would have the power of that element in their hands."

         Lalivera smiled brightly.  "Literally."

         Imil glanced at the Venus Adept.  "But where are you going to get such items?  Absorption spells are unstable; they generally absorb the first essence they come in contact with.  I don't see how you can concentrate them in an item that they would be more likely to absorb."

         "The items themselves aren't the problem.  I believe I could use my Psynergy to create them."  At Imil's skeptical glance, Lalivera continued, "It would take a lot of effort and even more time, but I could create a simple sphere and embed an absorption spell into the fibers.  But it would absorb the first essence it came in contact with, unless it was shielded."

         Imil sat at the table again.  "What can you shield an absorption spell with?"

         Lalivera looked up at him.  "Mythril."

         "What!"

         "I didn't say it was going to be easy."

         Imil ran his hand through his hair.  "Mythril hasn't been seen for centuries.  I don't know where you plan to find any."

         Lalivera smiled across the table at Imil.  "I wasn't planning on finding any.  I was planning on having you find it."

         Imil stared blankly at her.  She sighed inwardly.  "Imil, if you're serious about this, I need to start researching exactly how to embed absorption spells.  Because if you mess it up, things get nasty.  That leaves you to get the mythril."

         Imil stood up and paced the length of the room.  "So where do I find the mythical mythril?"

         Lalivera shrugged.  "Probably the first thing to do would be to look in the old records.  See if there's any mention of mythril.  There has to be some abandoned mine somewhere, or storehouse, or something."

         Imil stopped pacing and looked at her.  "So we're really going to seal Alchemy away."

         Lalivera nodded.  "You're right.  It's between this and total war."

         "The clans will be against us.  They won't allow us to steal the power of their lighthouses."

         "We'll have to leave them no choice."

         Imil nodded.  "To be turned against all fellow Adepts.  Do you think we can succeed?"

         Lalivera looked out the window and nodded.  "We must.  For the future of Weyard."

         Imil picked up his sword and clasped it across his back.  "I'll go do some research in the old records.  What will you be doing?"

         "I can't make the spheres until you have the mythril.  I have to embed the spell while I construct them.  I'll look for the best way to do that."

         Imil turned to leave.

         "Imil?"

         "Yes?"

         "Good luck."

         *               *               *               *               *               *

         Imil thumbed through parchment after parchment in the archives section of the Vale Sanctum.  Most of these scrolls were falling apart from age and neglect.  Alchemy could do many things, but seemingly it failed at organizing information, for Imil had been searching for several hours and found nothing about mythril.  Lalivera was crazy, he decided.  There was no chance to find any mythril.  There was none left in the world today.  Alchemy had brought about bigger and better things, and the need for mythril had disappeared.

         He sighed as he began yet another pile of scrolls.  This one was about the economics of the Karagol Sea.  No help there.  The next scroll was adorned with a flowery border and flowing script, declaring every wedding in Vale from the third century After Alchemy.  Imil snorted in disgust.  This pile wasn't going to help him at all.

         Suddenly, a small box caught his eye.  It was made of bronze, half-buried among the scrolls and parchments.  Imil gently extracted the box and examined the lock.  It was an old lock, using a key instead of Pysnergetic signatures.  Imil pressed his hand to the lock, then slowly drew it backwards, creating a small rod of water that seeped among the lock.  He then froze the water solid, and turned the ice key.  The lock opened with a click, and Imil smiled as he gently lifted the cover.

         A small scroll lay inside.  Imil gently lifted the scroll from the box and unrolled the yellowed sheet.  A smile grew on his face as his blue eyes traversed the writing.  He would have to show this to Lalivera.

         *               *               *               *               *               *

         Lalivera moved from bed to bed in the inn's lobby, checking on the wounded from the battle.  Nahin had a pretty bad burn up his right arm, but he would be all right within a couple days.  Junou was less fortunate; the wound in his chest was festering, and Lalivera feared he would be lost soon.  In all, only four Adepts, including herself and Imil, were in fighting condition.  That last battle had been brutal.

         Lalivera kneeled down next to another bed.  She clasped the hand of Gerzog, a Mars Adept whose wounded leg had been infected before Lalivera had gotten to him.  The infection had given him a bad fever, and Lalivera was fighting to keep him lucid.  She took his hand gently and his eyes traveled unsteadily to hers.

         "How are you, Gerzog?"

         "Better," he wheezed.  "I feel a little cooler today."

         "That's good," Lalivera commented, touching his cheek with the back of her hand.  He was still abnormally hot.

         "Lali," Gerzog started, "I want you to know-"

         "Yes?" she asked patiently.

         "If anyone…anyone threatens Alchemy… I'll be there, fighting for it…"

         "I know," Lalivera whispered.  Gerzog fell into a fitful sleep, releasing her hand.

         Lalivera returned to her room, conflicting thoughts running through her head.  If she and Imil succeeded, what would people like Gerzog think of them?  Would they be outcasts, hunted for their crime against Alchemy, against humanity?  Or would others be able to see the necessity of their actions?  Even now, Lalivera wondered how it had come to this.  Alchemy had done such wonders for Weyard.  The elemental clans lived in such splendor, their lighthouses the centerpiece of modern civilization.  And it was all threatened by the very power that created it.

         No, she decided, Alchemy had to be sealed.  It had become too great a power.

         Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.  "Enter," she called.

         Imil walked in the doorway, a small scroll in his hand and a grin on his face.

         "Did you find anything?" Lalivera asked.

         "Just a small land deed," Imil smiled, "for a mythril mine."

         Lalivera jumped out of her chair.  "Let's see it, then."

         Imil walked over to the table and slowly unrolled the aged parchment.  Lalivera frowned, then walked to the windowsill, lit a candle, and returned to the table.

         "Twelfth cycle, second century After Alchemy," she read aloud, "This deed hereby entitles the holder to all property west of Bilibin Cave in the Formth Mountain range, such property to encompass roughly thirty-six (36) acres and including Gorman Bros. Mining Co. and their facilities.  Signed this fourth moon of the twelfth cycle, Melir Gorman.  Sold to Loirn Camen.  Witnessed Jarret Messel."  She tapped the paper with her forefinger.

         "It was more than four centuries ago, but there may be some remains in the area," Imil interjected.  "It's at least worth a shot."  He strode over to the wall and took down the map of Angara hanging on the wall.  "And look at this – it's even on the route to the Mercury Clan.  If we manage to find the mythril-"

         "We can make that be our first lighthouse," Lalivera finished.  "When should we leave?"

         "As soon as possible.  Tomorrow."

         "What about the wounded?"

         "Maxti can take care of them.  We don't have a lot of time."

         "All right," Lalivera said, stretching and yawning.  "It's time for some rest, then."

         "Indeed.  Goodnight, Lali."

         "Goodnight, Imil."

**A/N: Please R+R!**

**-AE**


	2. The Gonthorian Forest

**Disclaimer: Characters are mine.  Golden Sun isn't.**

         Imil paced back and forth by the gate.  He slung his pack over his shoulder, readjusting his sword across his back.  Then he sighed and looked back into the town of Vale.  Lalivera was late, and he was getting antsy.  He took a scroll out from his satchel and opened it, eyes slowly tracking the path they were to take.  If all went according to plan, they should reach the site of the ruins by nightfall.  With any luck, they could locate the mythril by morning, take a short rest, and be on the way to the Mercury Lighthouse by the second day.  Imil rolled up the scroll as he heard the crunching of pebbles behind him.

         "Bored?" came Lalivera's voice.

         "It's about time you showed up," Imil said, irritation bleeding into his voice.

         Lalivera walked up beside him, a satchel slung over her left shoulder and a walking staff held in her right hand.  A dark brown cloak was draped over her shoulders.

         "I had to leave a message for Maxti," she explained.  "She'll wake up and see that we've gone to Bilibin for medical supplies."

         "I had hoped to get started before the sun rose," Imil stated, glancing at the first rays of light peeking over the horizon.  "It will take us most of the day to reach the mine."

         Lalivera started walking, leading the way out of Vale.  "Well then, let's get a move on!"

         Imil followed quickly, catching up just outside of the village.  "Honestly, Lali, you are so difficult sometimes."

         "You're just grumpy because you couldn't sleep a wink."

         "I was planning our course, thank you very much."

         Lalivera trudged up a short hill.  She turned back to see Vale at the entrance of the Alchemy Plain, sunlight glistening off the windows of the village.  Imil stopped a few feet beyond her and turned back.

         "Are you coming?"

         "Yeah," she responded softly.  "I'm just wondering if I'll ever see my hometown again."

         Imil sighed inwardly.  He didn't have the emotional attachment to Vale that Lalivera did.  He had been selected by the Mercury clan elders to be part of the Mercury contingent that protected the Stone of Sages.  Lalivera, on the other hand, had never been part of a clan.  She had been born of a Wind and an Earth adept in Vale, the only person to have been born there.  She had a special bond with Vale that no one else did.

         "Hopefully we'll return with the power of the lighthouses in our hands."

         Lalivera turned to Imil.  "We'll never be accepted.  If we succeed in sealing Alchemy, we'll be branded as traitors in Vale."

         "Does that change the situation? This needs to be done."

         "I know.  That doesn't make this any easier."

         *               *               *               *               *               *

         Lalivera walked along the path next to Imil.  They had been silent for several minutes, each absorbed in their own thoughts.  Imil had been short with her this morning.  Undoubtedly, he was feeling the stress and pressure that their quest was placing on them.  If they failed, Weyard would be swallowed by some Alchemy-powered dictator.  As much as Lalivera loved her hometown, she realized that being an exile from one's hometown was a small price to pay for the salvation of the world.

         She knew their plan would work; she had researched the absorption spells, and it was possible to concentrate them in an item.  But the mythril was the key.  If they couldn't obtain any mythril, their quest would be over before it started.

Lalivera glanced at her companion.  "So, where exactly are we going?"

         "Heading southeast until we reach the Lavault Pass, then skirting around the western edge of the Gonthorian Forest until we reach the base of the Northern Range.  The mine should be in the foothills of the range," Imil explained.

         Lalivera frowned.  "Why are we skirting the Gonthorian Forest?  Wouldn't it be quicker just to cut straight through?"

         "That's a very dangerous forest, Lali."

         "Yes, but I think we can handle it between the two of us."

         Imil nodded.  "I'm not saying we couldn't, but it would very likely slow our progress.  It may take us just as long if we cut through the forest, and it will be less strenuous to go around."

         "Less strenuous?" Lalivera echoed dubiously.

         "So that we can start searching the mine as soon as we get there, rather than having to wait."

         "I think you're being a little bit overcautious, Imil.  We could save a few hours by going through the forest, and time is of the essence."

         Imil was silent for a moment.  Lalivera knew he knew she was right, but would he be willing to take the chance?

         "Very well.  We shall go through the forest."

         "Good," Lalivera asserted.  Then she stopped.

         Imil looked at her.  "What is it?"

         "We're about to be…" she started.  Suddenly, six men with cloths over their faces leapt out of the bushes, surrounding the pair.

         …ambushed," Lalivera finished sheepishly.

         The largest thief approached the pair, sword held menacingly in front of him.  "We'll just be relieving you of all your valuables."

         Lalivera glanced at Imil, who returned the look.  "And what if we don't have any valuables?" Lalivera returned.

         "Then we take your life," the bandit growled.

         Imil stepped forward.  "We don't need any unnecessary bloodshed here."

         "There won't be any if you hand over your valuables."

         "I've got a better idea," Lalivera interrupted.  "Why don't you let us go, and we'll be kind and forget this happened?"

         The thief's eyes widened slightly above his mask.  Then he chuckled.  "Dead or alive, makes no difference to us.  Get 'em, boys!"

         The leader swung his sword at Lalivera's head, only to be blocked by Imil's quick parry.  Lalivera whirled and caught another thief's blade on the shaft of her staff, striking him in the stomach with the end of the staff.  As the thief doubled over, Lalivera swung the other end of her staff in an uppercut, catching the thief on the chin and knocking him out cold.  As two more thieves approached, Lalivera held her staff out vertically.  Earthen spires shot up from the ground, impaling the two attackers.  Lalivera felt a spray of water land on her back, and turned to see Imil blast the final thief with a pillar of water that extended from his hand.  The thief flew back a good fifty feet before crashing into a tree.  The leader was on the ground, a stab wound in his chest.  Of the sixth thief, Lalivera saw nothing.

         Imil wiped his sword off on the leader's tunic, then sheathed the blade.  "The forest?" he invited.

         Lalivera followed him down the path.  "Lousy thieves," she muttered aloud.  "They put a scratch in my staff."

         *               *               *               *               *               *

         As the sun met its zenith in the blue sky, the two travelers entered the Gonthorian Forest.  Imil still had misgivings about cutting through the forest, but Lalivera was right.  If they could handle hundreds of trained mercenaries in an army and dispatch six rogue bandits without breaking a sweat, they could probably handle the trials of the forest.

         Imil led the way, picking out the quickest paths through the undergrowth.  For some reason, he felt uneasy.  His hand went to his shoulder, fingering the hilt of his sword.

         "What's the matter, Imil?" Lalivera asked.

         "I have this uneasy feeling.  Like we're walking into a trap."

         Lalivera glanced around the forest.  "I doubt there's anything in here with enough intelligence to set a trap for us.  And even if they do, it didn't do those bandits much good."

         "Still," Imil said, trudging onwards, "I fear the forest more than blades of steel."

         They continued their trek for some time.  Soon, they came to a small clearing in the forest.  As they reached the center, a chorus of howls echoed through the trees.  Imil quickly drew his sword as Lalivera brought her staff to a ready position.  Imil's eyes scanned the underbrush.  The clearing left them open to attack in all directions; they could come from anywhere…

         Suddenly, a wolf blasted from the bushes to Imil's right.  Lalivera spun to dodge as Imil stepped in with his blade.  The wolf fell to the ground, impaled through the chest, but as it died three more burst into the clearing.  Lalivera pointed her staff into the ground, and a blast of sand forced the attackers backwards.  Imil turned to find four more wolves entering from the opposite end of the clearing; this was quickly getting out of hand!

         Imil extended his hand and blasted a water pillar, striking one of the wolves dead on.  The other three charged him, and Imil swung his sword, felling the first.  The second made a leap over Imil's head and charged at Lalivera, who was occupied with the other three wolves.

         "Lali!" Imil called out.

         Lalivera swung around just as the wolf leapt.  She passed her staff vertically in front of her and the wolf collided with a shimmering golden wall, crumpling to the ground as the glow faded.  Imil turned back to his own battle, but the enemy struck first, sinking his fangs into Imil's left arm.  He grimaced in pain and threw the wolf off with his arm, feeling his flesh tear as the wolf's fangs exited.  As the wolf whirled and charged again, Imil sheathed his sword and held his right hand out, a whirling sphere of water forming.

         "Come and get it," he snarled.  Once the sphere had grown to about the size of the wolf's head, he passed his left hand over it, and it froze into a crystalline ball of ice.  Imil then hurled the ice at the charging wolf.  It shattered as it struck the wolf's head, and shards of ice embedded themselves in the unfortunate creature's skull.  Imil looked to Lalivera as his adversary fell, and saw her fending off two wolves with her staff as two more charged from the bushes, one leaping at the Venus adept's back.  Imil drew his sword and leapt forward, intercepting the wolf in midair.  Pain shot up Imil's wounded arm as the sword sliced into the wolf's hide, killing it.

         Lalivera held up her hand and the ground beneath her adversaries erupted, hurling dirt and boulders everywhere.  The two wolves flew through the air, landing hard in the underbrush.  Imil shot a spike of ice from his left hand, felling the final wolf.

         "Thanks," Lalivera said, "I was in a bit of trouble there."

         "Not a problem.  That was closer than it should have been," Imil replied, checking his arm.

         "Here, let me help you with that," Lalivera offered, holding her two hands over Imil's ruined forearm.  A yellowish glow formed, and as the wound was bathed in its light, Imil watched his muscles and tendons reforming, the skin healing.  Soon his arm was back to normal.

         "Thanks," he said, sheathing his sword.  "Let's get out of here."  But as he turned to leave the clearing, a loud crash echoed through the forest.  Imil stopped dead in his tracks.  A second crash echoed, closer this time.

         "What is that?" Lalivera whispered.

         She was answered by a third crash as the creature leapt into the clearing.  It seemed, at first, to be a tree.  Its two huge legs were covered in bark, and pointed, branch-like arms protruded all over its body.  It stood at least ten feet higher than the two adepts, and it was howling through an unseen mouth.

         "It isn't friendly," Imil responded.

         "This should be fun," Lalivera agreed.

         *               *               *               *               *               *

         Lalivera started the fight by erupting the ground beneath the behemoth.  Unfortunately, the stones just rebounded off the monster's thick hide.  It turned towards Lalivera, and one of its branches suddenly shot out towards the adept.  She leapt back just in time, as the branch shuddered with its impact.  Imil, meanwhile had charged between the monster's legs, slashing with his sword as he went.  The tree seemed barely affected, as he swung his leg around behind him, connecting with the Mercury adept and sending him sprawling across the ground.  Imil stood shakily, facing the monster.

         As Lalivera watched, the monster wrenched a small tree from the ground behind it, and hurled it at her.  It hit the ground short and slid towards her.  Thinking quickly, Lalivera planted her staff in the ground and used it to propel herself over the tree, landing hard on the opposite side.  She watched as Imil blasted a pillar of water at the tree, connecting with its upper right torso.  The tree was thrown off-balance, but shot another branch at Imil, causing him to dive to the side.

         Lalivera frowned.  She pointed her staff at the ground again, blasting a large cloud of sand at the gargantuan beast.  The tree howled and seemed to writhe, shooting branches off its body wildly.  Several trees around the clearing were impaled, and Lalivera had a close call as one whizzed by her to the right.  Imil had to roll quickly to avoid being struck.

         "Lali!" he called.  "I've got an idea! I need some protection!"

         Lalivera took advantage of the monster's distraction to sidle up next to the Mercury adept.  Imil had closed his eyes and held his left hand towards the monster, his sword held loosely at his side.  Lalivera had no idea what he was up to, but she created an earthen barrier in front of them.

         By now, the monster had recovered from the sand blast.  It whirled on the two adventures.  Lalivera tightened her grip on her staff.  Three branches shot towards them, and Lalivera winced as they impacted on her barrier and shattered into pieces.  The barrier dissipated, its energy spent.  Suddenly, the behemoth howled in pain, grabbing for another tree and ripping it brutally from the ground.  Lalivera quickly conjured a boulder and sent it hurtling at the enemy projectile.  The two missiles collided in midair, with the tree getting the better of the collision.  But Lalivera had managed to knock it off course, and it slid by the two adepts harmlessly.

         "All right!" Imil yelled.  "I need to blast it with everything you've got!"

         "It won't work!" Lalivera responded.  "Its hide is too thick!"

         "Just do it!" he replied, dodging yet another branch.

         Lalivera turned to the monster just in time to roll out of the way as a branch shot at her.  She got to her feet and held her staff in front of her, concentrating.  The ground beneath the tree rippled and suddenly exploded.  To Lalivera's delight, the hulking beast shattered from the impact, completely disintegrating.  Once the dust had settled, Lalivera looked at Imil in disbelief.

         "What did you do?" she asked.

         "I found all the water inside that thing and froze it," Imil said, climbing to his feet and brushing himself off.  "Made it a bit more brittle."

         Lalivera headed for the edge of the clearing.  "I'm with you.  Let's get out of this crazy forest."

         *               *               *               *               *               *

         They made it through the forest without further incident.  Before them lay the foothills of the Great Northern Range.  Imil glanced at the setting sun and said, "Let's get to the Formth Range and camp for the night."

         Lalivera consulted the land deed.  "If I read this correctly, it should be directly west of the Bilibin Cave.  That would put it…" she trailed off, scanning the horizon.  "There."

         Imil glanced where she was pointing and struck out across the field in that direction.  He knew that it would take them a while to actually find the mine, and then they had to hope that there was still some mythril left for them to take.  The trip through the forest had been harder than he'd anticipated, and they weren't even a day into their journey yet.

         Soon they reached the base of the hills.  After some searching in the twilight, they found a suitable place to camp.  As the pair settled into their makeshift beds, Lalivera spoke.

         "What's the plan for tomorrow?" she yawned.

         "We can search for the mine after some food.  Hopefully we'll manage to find it without too much trouble."

         "Yeah.  G'dnight, Imil."

         "Goodnight."

         And with that, Imil drifted into dreams.

**A/N: Violence! Violence! Oh, sorry.  This story is gonna be a little slow at the beginning, but should improve as the plot thickens.  Review responses:**

**Rain Child: Yay! You win the prize for guessing the characters' names!  Oh, and thanks for that soup.  It was refreshing…**

**Oh, and double thanks for putting me on your favorites list!**

**Crab Apple Fairy:  You're just jealous because my caffeine is better than yours.**

**OK, that was quick, which means… review! Please!**

**-AE**


End file.
